


Woman Like a Man, or: How Jared Learned to Stop Worrying and Love His Genitalia

by pianoforeplay



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Genderswap, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-21
Updated: 2011-11-21
Packaged: 2017-10-26 08:43:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/281013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pianoforeplay/pseuds/pianoforeplay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jared's a girl, Jensen's sexually confused, Eric's pissed and Chad's a surprisingly good friend.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Woman Like a Man, or: How Jared Learned to Stop Worrying and Love His Genitalia

**Author's Note:**

> Initially posted [here](http://pianoforeplay.livejournal.com/18933.html) on 3/08/09.

In the end, it takes practically stripping Jared down to his birthday suit for Eric to finally believe he's not being Punk'd.

"Oh," he says then, eyes saucer-wide. "Yeah, this, uh... this-- is a problem."

Jared just seems to fold further in on himself, arms crossed tight across his chest, head ducked. He doesn't apologize, but Jensen can feel it hanging unsaid in the air, the guilt virtually radiating off Jared's (suddenly softer-looking) skin even though Jensen knows damn well it's not Jared's fault. Exactly whose fault it _is_ , he doesn't know, but he's determined to find out. Somehow. Just as soon as Jared gets himself a bra because those fuckers are distracting.

Eric's still staring at Jared like he's the newest exhibit in Ripley's Believe It or Not and Jensen grimaces, rubbing a hand against the back of his neck as he lets out a breath. "C'mon, man," he says, trying for a smile. "There's gotta be a way we can just write this in."

" _We_?" Eric balks, head snapping to turn to Jensen. " _We_ aren't writing anything. _We_ are keeping our mouths shut and _you_ are taking him-- _it_ back home and figuring out just how the _fuck_ this happened and then _fixing it_. You got it? Meanwhile, _I_ am going to come up with an elaborate yet rock-solid reason as to why we absolutely need to go on an immediate and indefinite hiatus. I'm thinking possibly our two leads both need rehab for heavy-duty drug addictions, how's that sound? Yeah, I think that sounds good! See, they've just gotten a little out of control and their behavior is becoming a liability and this is... this is good for the show but, more importantly, good for _them_. Yeah. Congratulations, guys, you're the newest Scott Weiland and Pete Doherty!" His gaze cuts over to Jared uncomfortably. "Or Amy Winehouse, in his case."

Speechless, Jensen hazards a glance over at Jared who seems smaller than Jensen had ever thought possible. It really has very little to do with the current shape of his body.

:::

Jared has no idea what Eric actually tells the networks, but he honestly can't bring himself to care because, hello, he has _boobs_ now and, even more alarmingly, _no penis_. To put it lightly, that really, _really_ sucks.

The boobs thing isn't so bad; they're actually pretty nice. Soft and round and full. Not too big, but definitely more than a handful. (Though his hands have kind of shrunk, so his typical method of measurement is a bit skewed.) And, judging by the way he's already caught Jensen trying not to look a few times, he figures he's not the only one who's appreciating them.

Still, that doesn't make up for his current lack of a dick. Because Jared's always been a pretty big fan of his dick, always kind of figured it to be his nicest physical feature aside from possibly his upper back and arms. And now it's... gone. Not just smaller, not just an unfortunate shrinkage problem, but completely and totally GONE.

It probably says something that he's more worried about the state of his dick than the state of his career, but Jared still can't really find it in himself to care.

But, after the initial freak-out, it really isn't too bad. Jared still misses his dick like he'd miss a limb (an analogy he'd like to believe is fairly accurate, all things considered) and his equilibrium is all jacked to shit for awhile, but it's not _horrible_. In some ways, it's not all that unlike being a guy, and he still kind of feels like he's the same dude he's always been. He still likes beer, still wants to watch football and play video games and consume as much candy as humanly possible. It's not like he has a sudden interest in interior decorating or open-toed shoes or _Sex and the City_.

But then on Thursday, he gets a call from his parents and has to pretend to be his own (currently non-existent) girlfriend in what has to be the most awkward conversation of his _life_ , excluding the one with Eric.

After that, he goes back to thinking that the whole situation really fucking sucks.

:::

It doesn't take long for the news to break. Despite the threats, Jensen's unsurprised but relieved to find that Eric didn't concoct a sordid drug addiction story after all. Still, rumors fly, propelled by the fact that the lead actors of the show haven't been seen in public since the spontaneous hiatus announcement.

Or so they think. Jared's gone out once or twice, it's just that nobody's noticed.

If anyone were to ask Jensen about it (and, no, so far nobody's bothered) he'd have to say it's seriously a shitty situation. Because the thing is... Jared makes a disturbingly hot girl. Like, supermodel hot. Like, _Victoria's Secret_ supermodel hot. All the hard angles and bulky muscle have smoothed and evened out, morphed into these... these _curves_ in all the right places. He's shorter than Jensen now, but not by much and his hair's longer, skin softer, lips fuller. Everything just a _little_ more rounded and soft and, well, _feminine_ even if Jared clearly doesn't know what to do with any of it.

And, frankly, it's driving Jensen out of his friggin' _mind_. Because, underneath it all, it's still _Jared_ , still his now-slightly-less-gigantic goofball of a best friend. And he still basically _acts_ like a guy: impressive belches, noxious farts and early-morning wedgie-pickings included. He still even wears the same clothes, which largely consist of boxer shorts with the waistband rolled down so they don't sag to his knees, and t-shirts that hang on him like two-man dome tents since nothing else in his closet really fits anymore.

But all of that does very little to hide that Jared's still a _chick_. Hair that had once just been kind of floppy and unruly and really not all that flattering is now thick and weirdly shiny as it falls over his shoulders. Hands that could've at one time crushed fucking watermelons are now smaller and slender, fingers long and _delicate_. (Except the effect is still pretty much the same when Jared has one stuck up his nose, so that's something at least.) Muscles that had once bulged freakishly on his biceps and thighs are now all but entirely gone, lean and hidden away in curves and dips and soft skin.

Jensen's heard stories before of guys taking too much Viagra and subsequently getting hard-ons for hours, but he's pretty sure that's _nothing_ compared to what this new incarnation of Jared is doing to him.

:::

A week (and several uncomfortable phone conversations with Eric) later and Jared's starting to get the feeling this isn't something that's just going to go away. He then spends an entire afternoon standing naked in front of his bathroom mirror trying to see if there's something he's been missing, like some hidden button in his (now slightly larger) nipples, or a code laid out in the skewed triangle of moles on his right hip that could possibly unlock and fix the whole thing.

What starts out as a sort of personal investigation quickly turns into him basically feeling himself up. And it's-- well, it's weird. Like touching himself and somehow not at the same time. And maybe after a week of existing in this body, he should feel more comfortable with it, but he really doesn't. At all. The face in the mirror is recognizable, but in a twisted and bizarre way, like someone took his sister's features and morphed and twisted them with his own like the end of that one Michael Jackson video. He's figured out the balance thing, but he still feels as awkward and clumsy as he did that one year of high school when he grew five inches. And, okay, it's not like he ever had all that much body hair to begin with, but now he has even _less_ , which has the weird effect of making him feel all the more naked somehow.

All that aside, Jared comes to the realization in those few hours that he makes a pretty hot chick. His tits are amazing, round and soft and perfectly proportioned, and he's pleased that at least _some_ of his hard work in the gym has transferred to the this body because his abs are still pretty damn awesome: his stomach flat and toned even as his hips have curved and widened.

And, yeah, sure, maybe it's kind of narcissistic or whatever, but considering he's as unfamiliar with this body as everyone else is, he figures maybe it's okay.

In fact, minutes later, when he has one hand between his legs and the other braced against the countertop, he wonders if it even really counts as masturbation. His brand new fingers slide down and in, pushing into his brand new pussy and holy _shit_ , what's taken him so long to try _this_ out? This is _awesome_.

:::

So, here's the thing: Jensen's _maybe_ not totally straight. Possibly. But, it's not, you know-- it's not like he's _gay_ or anything either; he's maybe more like a 1.75 on the Kinsey scale or whatever and, really, that number is largely dependent on how much alcohol he's consumed at the time.

That's how it'd started, really. With drinking. There'd been a party at Mike's (of course) and maybe some weed and a _hell_ of a lot of SoCo and then there'd been a prank of some kind -- the particulars of which he can't really remember -- except that it'd resulted in him and Jared fleeing for their drunken lives, eventually ending up on one side of a locked door and a ticked off Tom on the other. He still can't remember just how long they'd been stuck in there, but he remembers the darkness and how they'd laughed so hard their stomachs had ached as they'd tried to catch their breath. Then a warmth against him, big hands cupping his face and a hard, wet mouth on his own, followed pretty quickly by just about the best blowjob of his life.

Afterward, things had been sort of awkward, but that hadn't stopped it from happening again a week or two later. Again at a party, and again after a copious amount of beer. He'd been the one on his knees that time.

Then Jared had gone and turned into a _girl_ , and if there's ever been any just cause for a guy to be completely sexually confused, Jensen's pretty sure he's found it.

:::

"Are those my jeans?"

Jared glances down at himself, long hair hiding his face before he answers with a shrug. "They fit."

A muscle in Jensen's jaw twitches and he struggles silently with being kind of freaked out, kind of irritated and _really fucking turned on_ all at the same time. "No, they don't," he says gruffly.

"Okay," Jared replies and then fucking _bends over_ to pull the milk out of the fridge, unknowingly proving Jensen so very very wrong. Asshole. "They fit better than _mine_ , how's that?"

Jensen forces himself to look away, grabbing the bag of chips off the counter and heading into the other room as he calls over his shoulder. "So, maybe that means you should go shopping. Stop stealing my shit."

They've had this argument before, pretty much ever since _the change_ first occurred. But Jared's apparently even more stubborn as a chick than he'd been as a guy, which is why Jensen's more than a little surprised when he hears Jared bellow a, " _Fine!_. Jesus. Never took you for a nag, Jen."

Of course, then Jensen starts thinking about Jared wandering around in jeans and t-shirts that actually fit him, skirts that show off miles of long legs and tops that cling to his breasts and stop short of his navel and, really, the victory doesn't feel quite as sweet as he'd imagined.

:::

So, Jared's found that the whole being-a-chick thing is a lot harder to ignore when he goes out in public. At home, he can lounge around in over-sized shorts and t-shirts all day, watching DVDs and shitty daytime television and almost forget that he no longer has a penis.

But outside the walls of his own house, people really _look_ at him. Men and women both, all of them strangers. He can't always read their expressions, but sometimes it feels accusatory, like they know what he _used_ to be, know that he's some bizarre freak of nature that should be locked up and examined by a team of medical professionals, not out free to wander the streets of Vancouver. Of course, that could be because he's still dressed like a complete slob - Jensen's jeans barely clinging on, the sleeves of his t-shirt hang below his elbows and hair pulled back in a sloppy ponytail. But, whatever. He's trying to fix that. Finally.

Which is how Jared comes to find that, even after years of occasionally helping Sandy both in and out of bras, he really has _no_ clue how to put one on himself. He spends an hour in the changing room trying different techniques and, by the time he's found one that sort of works, he has small, horizontal lines on his sides and he's pretty sure he's pulled a muscle or two in his shoulder.

Also, he's a 34C.

He really doesn't want to get into how long it took him to figure that out.

The girl at the check-out counter is cute: small and curvy with dark hair and a sly smile. According to her name tag, her name's Jodie.

Jodie cocks a hip and begins ringing him up. Eying him for a second, she asks, "Do I know you?"

Jared's eyes widen slightly in panic until he mentally reassures himself that, even if she's a fan of the show, there's no way she's going to make the mental leap from 'the guy who plays Sam' to... well, whatever he is now. 'Sam-with-breasts?'

"I, uh," he starts and then flashes a quick, nervous smile. "I doubt it. New in town. Don't really know anyone."

"Oh," she says, sounding disappointed. Jared tries not to focus too much on the way she fingers his newly-purchased bras. When she glances up again, a piece of hair falls in her eyes and her smile is a little shakier. "Well, you want to? I know this great little bar just down the street- maybe we could go out for drinks sometime."

It takes a second for Jared to link her hesitant smile with her question, but when he does, his face splits into an immediate grin. "That's--" he starts, about ready to jump on the offer because, hey! Possible lesbian sex! Of which he could be an active participant! Except, he still doesn't know how long this whole things is supposed to last and if his body starts to change back to normal in the middle of, uh... _things_ , it could be pretty awkward. So he hesitates, offers a strained, apologetic smile. "That's really nice of you, but I've just-- I'm, uh. I'm kinda busy. A lot. But yeah, uh... maybe sometime? Later?"

Jared's always sucked at saying 'no' to people.

Laughing, Jodie nods and counts out his change, her fingers lingering a second too long on Jared's palm before she hands over the bags. Jared gets a weird thrill out of it, letting his own smile slide into more of a smirk as he says goodbye and heads out.

He can't wait to see the look on Jensen's face when he tells him about this.

:::

Jensen's not planning on being gone too long, but he just-- he _really_ needs some Starbucks. And some fresh air while he's at it. Needs to get the hell away from Jared and his wavy, shiny hair and his great ass and small waist and incredible fucking _rack_ for a couple hours.

Surprisingly, he doesn't run into the long-legged bastard on his way out, but he's not about to stick around and risk actually having to face those puppy-dog eyes if he doesn't have to.

The venti mocha he orders a half hour later tastes like freedom, but that probably has a lot to do with the fact that he's chosen to purchase it from the furthest Starbucks he knows how to find and can enjoy it without the company of his newly vaginafied roommate. He drinks it slowly, taking his time and breathing in the crisp October air as he smiles at the girl at the counter who's all too eager to smile back.

The peace doesn't exactly last, though. Largely because his brain doesn't know how to shut the hell up.

Jared's a girl. Jared's a fucking _girl_. As great a liar as Jensen's sure Eric can be, there's only so long they can keep up the charade before the network either pulls the show or they send people in suits to investigate, and Jared gets hauled off by guys in white lab coats to be poked, prodded and probed for the rest of his life. The career thing Jensen's pretty sure he can handle; it's not like he's ever thought _Supernatural_ would be the be all and end all of his life as an actor or anything. Besides, he's not the one whose genitalia's been turned inside out. He'll be fine. It's _Jared_ he's worried about. Because even if they somehow do get this figured out and everything gets switched back to normal, he can't help but think it's going to take a hell of a lot of therapy for the guy to get over it. And, yeah, Jared's pretty rock-solid and well-adjusted, but everyone has their limits. Jensen's pretty damn sure spontaneously switching genders exceeds most of them.

Then there's the possibility that Jared _won't_ turn back, which... yeah, Jensen just doesn't really want to think about that. Ever, if at all possible.

Jared's watching Degrassi and eating a tube of Ritz crackers when Jensen finally makes it back, Sadie curled up against him with her head on Jared's lap. She likely has crumbs in her fur, but doesn't seem to care. Not that Jensen can blame her. If he had his head in that lap, he really wouldn't care about crumbs either.

"You went shopping," is all Jensen can manage from his spot in the doorway.

Jared looks over, a smile stretching across his face and there-- right _there_. That's all Jared, all _his_ Jared, the old, _male_ Jared, and it's both comforting and unsettling at the same time. Particularly because he's dressed like Lindsay Lohan. "Yep! And dude, check this out!" he says bounding to his feet and suddenly yanking up the bottom of his t-shirt to show off the lacy pink bra underneath.

Jensen's eyes widen and he sputters out a cough.

"I know, right?" Jared says, beaming. He takes a step closer, tucks the shirt under his chin, hand tracing over the lacing of the cup. "Check it out, man. I finally get that whole 'lift and separate' thing Sandy was always talking about. My tits look amazing in this thing!"

"Uh-huh," Jensen says, trying to sound uninterested and immediately wincing at the way his voice catches.

When Jared glances up again, grinning, Jensen gets the distinct feeling he's being had.

"Oh, guess what!" Jared says before Jensen can call him on it, mercifully letting his shirt drop down. "I got asked out today by a hot chick at the Bay. How awesome is that?"

"What- _seriously_?" Jensen asks before he can stop himself.

Even as a girl, Jared apparently has the ability to look like an over-excited puppy, dark hair swaying as he nods excitedly.

Jensen's dick gives a feeble twitch and he lets out a rough laugh, shakes his head as he turns to walk into the kitchen. "God, I fucking hate you."

"Aw, don't be like that," Jared calls out after him. "I know how to be a good friend, man. If she's up for it, you're totally invited."

:::

After three weeks, Jared's still no closer to turning back into a dude. At least not so far as he can tell, anyway. He doesn't know if it's supposed to be a slow transformation or an immediate one, but he checks his body every morning just in case, inspecting it for any new patch of hair or slight alteration in skin and muscle tone. But every morning his boobs are as rounded and perfect as the day before, his waist small and hips wide, and he's still _definitely_ missing any semblance of his highly-prized junk. Which isn't to say he's not slowly learning to appreciate his new body because, hell, he's _always_ been absolutely capable of appreciating the female form. And, now? Now, he can appreciate it much more intimately. Over and over again. Several times a day, in fact.

When it starts to become apparent that _Jensen_ isn't quite as appreciative, Jared decides to take it upon himself to, uh... _educate_.

Sort of.

"Dude, seriously," Jared starts, sitting atop the bar stool in his kitchen, bare feet hooked on the bottom rungs as he leans over the counter's edge. He's wearing a low-cut shirt that's reminiscent of the kind of thing Sandy'd always worn (and, presumably, still wears) and he knows he looks amazing in it; his tits are a little bigger than hers, though it's possible he's biased. Not that he'd ever had a problem with Sandy's tits -- just the opposite, really -- but, these ones are _his_ and he can touch them whenever he damn well pleases. That automatically makes them better. "It's like... okay, picture the best orgasm you've ever had and multiply it by, like, I don't know... _five_."

Jensen only arches an eyebrow as he sips at his coffee and Jared can't figure out for the life of him why the guy doesn't look at least a _little_ impressed. Maybe it's just hard to believe.

"It's addicting, man," Jared continues, shifting on the stool in such a way that feels _really_ nice. "I mean, I can't believe chicks aren't just wandering around all the time with a hand down their pants. Not that they even have to. Like, right now? I'm totally getting myself off right this second and you can't even tell, can you?"

And, _that_ gets him the reaction he'd been expecting, Jensen's eyes going comically wide.

"You-- _What_?"

"I'm totally masturbating!" Jared tells him with a bright smile and rocks his hips just a little again. "Right now! It's fucking _awesome_ , man. All I have to do is, like, find something to rub against and I'm golden. And there's seriously _no_ clean-up job either. I could come right here, right now and you so wouldn't know unless I started moaning and shit."

Jared can see the bob of Jensen's Adam's apple when he swallows. Nice.

"Yeah, you know what? I think I'm just gonna start pretending I can't hear you."

"Oh, come on," Jared whines, letting his hips rock once more just because he kind of can't help it; it really does feel awesome. "You have to admit it's pretty cool."

"No, I don't. Are you trying to convince me to give up my penis or something? Don't mean to burst your bubble, Jay, but it's _not happening_."

"No, I'd still kinda prefer my dick," Jared concedes as he slides off the stool and heads for the other room, making sure to sway his hips a little in the process. He knows it drives Jensen nuts. "I'm just saying that girls have it _way_ better than they try to make us believe. That's all."

:::

Jared seems to stand by his 'girls have it made' opinion for exactly three more days.

And then everything changes.

"Dude, c'mon," Jensen murmurs, sitting on the edge of Jared's bed and nudging him gently.

Jared's only reply is a quiet grunt that slides into a pitiful groan as he turns his face away, mashing it further into the pillow.

Barely refraining from rolling his eyes, Jensen nudges him again and then, without thinking, reaches up to brush the hair away from Jared's face, realizing a second too late just exactly what he's doing. He hesitates for only a moment before going through with it, Jared's hair soft against his fingers. The mole on Jared's cheek is still there, he notices. Slightly smaller like everything else, but still there and still the same general shape.

Jensen really doesn't want to think about how he knows the shapes of Jared's fucking _moles_.

Luckily, Jared's apparently in too much pain to notice that Jensen's kind of, uh... staring at him and he slides his hand back to rest on Jared's shoulder.

"I brought chocolate," he offers, almost apologetic.

Jared blinks one eye open. "What kind?"

Jensen frowns. "Uh. The chocolatey kind. Since when do you care?"

The groan Jared gives then is unlike any Jensen's heard before. It'd almost be kind of hot if Jensen didn't know the root cause. "Since I started BLEEDING FROM THE VAGINA," Jared moans, face twisted in pain. "Oh Jesus, Jen, I think I'm DYING."

With a snort, Jensen smacks the back of Jared's head, but only lightly. After all, Jared's a girl now -- sorta -- and, if there's one thing Jensen's dad taught him, it was to never hit a girl. Not even if they used to have a penis. Of course, growing up in Texas, that'd never been explicitly stated, but Jensen kind of figures it'd gone without saying. Or something.

"Stop being such a pussy, Jay. You've been in here for, like, two days."

(Jensen's father had also taught him to never use the word 'pussy' around a woman unless referring to an actual feline, but he figures there can be exceptions made in this case.)

"Yeah, well try scraping out your intestines with a dulled ice cream scooper and see how hot _you_ feel."

And, see, it's not that Jensen _likes_ watching his best friend writhe in pain, but he has to admit it's kind of funny. A smile threatens to curve his lips, but the second Jared's eyes start to narrow it instantly falls away. "Don't chicks deal with this all the time? No offense, man, but no girl I've ever dated has made this big a deal out of it."

"It's a conspiracy, Jen," Jared groans, shifting so that his face is pressed against Jensen's thigh, body coiled in on itself. Jensen tenses instinctively, but Jared doesn't seem to notice. Of course. "Seriously. Perpetuated by women for thousands of years to make us men feel sorry for them. There's no fucking _way_ they actually go through this _every single month_. No way."

" _Us_ men?" Jensen can't help responding.

That's when Jensen discovers that, even as a girl, Jared still hits pretty damn hard.

:::

Eric shows up on Friday morning, his eyes bloodshot and face unshaven with a thick and ragged-looking hardback book in one hand and a plastic shopping bag in the other. Jensen's more than a little reluctant to let him in the house.

"I've been doing some research," Eric says, holding up the plastic bag and flashing a smile that reminds Jensen far too much of every Charles Manson picture he's ever seen.

"Okay," he says, slow and drawn out as he eyes the plastic bag. "At Wal-Mart?"

Without answering, Eric pushes his way into the house. Jensen could easily overtake him, but even if the guy currently looks like a vaguely psychotic homeless person, he's still Jensen's _boss_. Sort of. Either way, Jensen figures it's best to at least hear what he has to say.

Jared's stretched out on the floor reading a magazine, bare feet in the air and a dog nestled on either side. The sound of Eric's voice apparently gets his attention though and he twists around as Harley ambles to his feet and wanders over, warily greeting their new and unclean guest.

"Dude, what the hell happened to you?" Jared asks, wrinkling his nose.

"Shut up. At least _I_ still have a dick," Eric shoots back, crossing to stand in front of Jared and dropping the book down right in front of him. It lands on the carpet with a dull thud and Jensen almost smirks at the affronted look on Jared's face. He'd been pretty good with that face even as a dude, but it's _stellar_ as a chick, Jensen has to admit.

"What's this?" Jared asks, shifting to sit cross-legged, and Jensen has to force himself not to stare at the bared skin of Jared's inner thighs.

"Page four-fifty-eight," Eric instructs and then turns to toss the plastic bag at Jensen.

Startled, Jensen barely manages to catch it, a deep frown tugging at his lips as he watches Eric curiously. He has no earthly idea what's going on anymore and suddenly he's not too sure he _wants_ to know.

"Those are for you," Eric tells him and Jensen can't miss the look of supreme discomfort that suddenly colors the guy's expression. "I wasn't, uh, sure on size, so I bought a few different ones."

"Eric, man, what're you--"

"Just read," Eric snaps as he turns his attention to Jared again, not sounding irritated so much as... well, kind of desperate. Jensen recognizes it. "And if you still can't figure it out-- hell, I don't know. Google it."

Jensen wants to ask him just what the hell that's supposed to mean exactly, but he's not given the opportunity as Eric stalks back towards the front door. "I'm calling you tomorrow, Padalecki," Eric announces from the front room. "And you better have a penis or we start looking for a replacement."

The slam of the front door doesn't exactly come as a surprise, but Jensen winces all the same.

"Well, that went well," he says dully and then looks down at the bag in his hands, holds it open to peer inside.

And nearly shits himself.

:::

"No, Jay. No. Absolutely not. No _fucking_ way."

"Jense--"

"No, no, and... yeah, also? NO!"

"Dude, you heard him," Jared says, practically pleading, but making sure to keep his distance. The way Jensen's backed himself up against the wall reminds Jared of a cornered animal, shaky and wild-eyed. Kind of ironic given the circumstances, Jared thinks. He barely refrains from snapping, _Who's the pussy now, bitch?_ if only because he's fairly sure it wouldn't go over very well. "If I don't have a dick by tomorrow, I'm fuckin' _done_ , man. Gone. They'll find someone else."

"This _can't_ be the only way."

"Well, you got any other bright ideas?" Jared retorts, dropping his hands to his hips. "C'mon, tell me. I'm all ears. But, far as I can tell, this is the only thing we got. You really think Eric _wanted_ \--"

Flinching, Jensen holds up a hand to silence him and Jared complies, biting down on his words. And waits.

Jensen still has one hand against the wall behind him, like he expects the floor to drop out beneath his feet or Jared to lunge and, Jared has to admit, that last one's starting to get tempting.

Which is when it occurs to him that maybe he's going about this the wrong way.

"Okay, fine," he says, dropping his hands to his sides and taking a step back. Jensen looks immediately suspicious, but Jared raises his hands in a sign of surrender and smiles inwardly as Jensen begins to visibly relax. "Fine, we'll just... we'll figure out something else," Jared says, just before he pulls his top off in one easy, perfected movement. "I mean, having sex with me _would_ be completely and totally awful, and I really wouldn't want to subject you to that," he continues, arching an eyebrow as his hands drop to the top button of his shorts. He tilts his head to one side and puts on his best pout as he undoes the zipper and wiggles his hips slightly, letting the fabric fall past his thighs and knees, down to his ankles where he carefully steps out of them.

Jensen looks like he's about to have an aneurysm. Taking that as a good sign, Jared steps closer, thumb hooking in the thin waistband of his panties. They match his bra today, which is more of a coincidence than anything he'd actually planned, but he figures it's working well for him here.

"So, I guess I could call up Mike or someone," he says, reaching his other hand behind his back to unlatch the hooks of his bra. That move had taken some practice, but it's paying off now, the straps loosening on his shoulders before he lets the lacy fabric fall away. "Maybe Jeff. Bet he'd be happy to help out. I mean, doesn't have to be you, right? Just has to be a dick." He bites his bottom lip, then trails his hand down the center of his chest and over his smooth, flat stomach before sliding lower, beneath the fabric of his panties where he's a surprised to find himself a little wet already. Interesting. The sound that pushes past his lips as he gently touches himself isn't nearly as much of an act as he's willing to bet Jensen thinks it is.

"Jay," Jensen whines, his gaze darting from Jared's face to his hand to his breasts and everywhere in between. Jared knows suddenly and with absolute certainty that Jensen wants it, wants _him_ , and realizes with a start, that it feels kind of awesome. Jensen _wants_ him. Holy shit. It should probably weird him out, but it doesn't. Not even a little bit. Instead, it makes the heat flare in Jared's gut, his finger pushing back slightly, spreading the wet slickness before circling his clit again, his eyes trained on Jensen.

"C'mon," he breathes, voice catching before he wets his lips and leans in closer. "I need it, Jensen. Need your cock. Need it _in_ me."

Jared's positive that he's never uttered those words in absolute seriousness before and, even now, it almost makes him laugh. But the sound Jensen makes then -- something between a whimper and a growl, frustration and arousal and need and hunger all wrapped up together -- cuts it off, suddenly brings the whole fucked up situation into sharper focus. He's asking, practically _begging_ Jensen to fuck him. It's surreal and bizarre and sort of twisted, but _fuck_ does he want it. He wants to feel Jensen impaling him, stretching him apart and filling him and he knows Jensen wants it, too. Can _feel_ it.

A second later Jensen's wrenching himself away, shoving Jared to the side and nearly tripping over his own feet in his haste to get to his bedroom.

Jared sighs, crosses his arms protectively across his bare chest and bangs his head against the wall.

Fuck, maybe he _will_ have to call Mike.

Just the idea makes Jared want to throw up.

:::

"Wait, wait, wait- back up. Jared's a _what_?"

Bent forward on the edge of his bed, Jensen sighs and rubs a hand against his forehead. "A girl. With long hair and curves and boobs and... and everything."

Technically, he isn't supposed to be talking to anyone about this. Not that he or Jared have signed any legally-binding contract to keep their mouths shut, but he's pretty sure if Eric were to find out, he'd be in serious danger of losing his _own_ dick in a far more straight-forward manner. But it's not like he's told anyone else and... well, it's Danneel. He tells her nearly everything anyway.

"Baby, are you high right now?"

Jensen groans loudly and drops backward onto his bed, staring angrily up at the ceiling. "No, I'm not _high_! Look, I know it sounds ridiculous, but it's-- fuck, just _trust me_ , okay? He's a girl. A real, live, _actual_ girl with boobs and _legs_ and a vagina. And Eric is _pissed_. We're talking cancellation here, Danny, the end of Jared's career, maybe the end of _my_ career, I don't know.

"Okay, chill out," Danneel says, still clearly not believing him. "So, what am I supposed to do about it?"

"I don't know," Jensen admits, a whine in his voice. "Tell me how to fix it? Eric did some research, he thinks-- he said he thinks Jared has to get laid." Remembering Jared's run-in with the cute Bay check-out girl, he adds, "By a guy."

There's a clang of metal on metal and Jensen gets the feeling that Danneel's making dinner. Even though it's only three in the afternoon.

"Do you see where I'm going with this?"

"Kind of," she says and there's another crash. "Still trying to figure out what it has to do with me and whether or not I need to find you a shrink."

"Oh, that's supportive," Jensen says, voice dull. "What would I ever do without you?"

Danneel gives a snort and her voice is muffled for a second. "Yeah, whatever. I'm not seeing the problem here, Ackles- either schedule an emergency sex change operation or get over yourself and fuck him."

"Neither of those are reasonable options."

"Bullshit."

"This isn't helping."

She sighs quietly. "I don't know what you want me to tell you."

"Don't you have, like, I don't know, female intuition or something for this kind of emergency?"

"Oh come on! Is Jared's vagina making you stupid? Female intuition doesn't enable us to change people's _gender_ , Jensen. If it did, we'd all be guys twelve weeks out of every year."

It's Jensen's turn to sigh this time, his mounting frustration making it sound more like a growl.

"Jesus, just fuck him."

"It's _Jared_!"

"Yeah? And? You've already blown each other, haven't you? And, if I remember correctly, you liked it. Both times. Even if you're a total fucking coward who doesn't want to admit it. You know, maybe this is nature's way of making you embrace your sexuality."

Jensen's seriously regretting ever having told Danneel about that. "There is absolutely nothing natural about this."

"It's seriously painful how repressed you are."

"Not being gay doesn't make me repressed!"

"No, being a hopeless closet case makes you repressed," Danneel shoots back. "Is there _any_ other way you know of to change him back?"

"I'm not a closet case."

There's another clatter from Danneel's side of the line before her voice comes through crystal clear. "Did you or did you not suck Jared's dick?"

Jensen winces, but doesn't say anything.

"I'm not saying that sucking dick makes you completely gay, but it sure as hell doesn't make you completely straight. So do yourself a favor and drop the macho, homophobe act. Now, _again_ , do you know of any other way to change him back?"

Jensen frowns, wanting to argue that he's not homophobic, but he holds it back and gives her a simple, "No," instead.

"Okay," she says after a moment, still sounding exasperated, though her tone has softened considerably. "I have an idea, alright?"

"Yeah?" he asks, surprised and hopeful at once.

"Yeah. Just-- give me a couple days."

There's a pause as Jensen waits for her to elaborate, but when it becomes apparent she's not going to, he says, "Okay. Uh... thanks."

"You're welcome."

"I'll call you later."

"Sounds good. And let me know when and if you grow some balls, okay?"

Scowling, Jensen pulls the phone away from his ear, glares down at the blinking 'call disconnected' message and snaps it shut.

:::

The third time the phone rings, Jared's tempted to just turn the damn thing off for good. And maybe beat it to a pulp with the heel of one of those incredibly painful (but totally hot) stilettos he bought the other day. Instead, he takes another bite of his Fruit Loops and pretends he can't hear it.

"Jared," Jensen grumbles from across the room. "Answer your phone."

Jared only huffs and pouts down at his cereal. "Can't."

"Answer your _fucking_ phone, Jay."

"Dude, _you_ answer it. You live here too, you know. And! Then _you_ can be the one to tell Eric to start looking for another Sam because my co-star is completely repulsed by the idea of fucking me."

"I'm not-- you're a _chick_."

"Yeah, and you're _straight_ , dumbass. Or have you just been faking that for the network's sake?"

Jensen actually _growls_ then and shoots Jared a glare as he slams down his coffee mug and stalks out of the kitchen.

"That's what I thought!" Jared shouts after him and snatches the cordless off the counter top. "Eric, we have a problem," he says after clicking the 'talk' button and shoving another spoonful of Fruit Loops into his mouth. "Jensen's gay and I still don't have a penis."

The sound of Eric cursing is pretty much exactly what he'd expected. He kind of wishes he could record it to play back for Jensen later when he's not acting like a prissy bitch.

:::

Jared's taken to wandering around the house in nothing but his underwear and it's driving Jensen completely out of his damn mind. The day Jared ambles downstairs in a pair of his old boxer shorts and _only_ his old boxer shorts, Jensen's decided he's had enough. He heads into his bedroom and grabs the first t-shirt he can find from the top drawer of his dresser and throws it at Jared's head.

He's not surprised when Jared completely ignores the hint.

"Just 'cause I'm a woman don't make me your bitch, Schmackles."

"Just put on the damn shirt."

"Stop oppressing me."

" _Put on the damn shirt._ "

"It has a picture of _Garth Brooks's face_ on it, dickweed! I'm not wearing the fucking shirt!"

Jensen stomps over and rips the shirt from Jared's hands, makes a show of turning it inside out and then practically shoves it on over Jared's head. And no, he's _not_ looking at Jared's incredible rack as he does so, doesn't at all get distracted by the bounce and jiggle as Jared lifts his arms in an attempt to pull free or the way Jared's skin is way softer than it has any business being.

"WEAR. THE FUCKIN'. _SHIRT_."

Finally, Jared's head pops through the neck hole, strands of long brown hair covering his eyes messily as he flashes Jensen a slow smile.

"I love it when you get all alpha, Jenny," he says, tone shifting as he clearly tries to fight a smile. Jensen doesn't know whether to laugh awkwardly, continue being irritated or find somewhere to jerk off.

His dick, however, doesn't seem to be nearly as confused. Traitor.

:::

When Chad shows up two days later, Jensen decides on the spot that he's going to _kill_ Danneel; the very least she could've done was warn him. But then, it's not like he could've properly prepared himself anyway. Not for Chad.

Luckily, he's not the only one ill-equipped for the visit. At least if the look on Chad's face is anything to go by.

"Holy _shit_! Holy FUCKING _SHIT_!"

Jared gives a weak smile and holds his arms out awkwardly. "Yeah."

Jensen keeps his distance a couple feet behind Chad, arms crossed over his chest, shoulders tense. It's not like he really expects Chad to _do_ anything, but... well, to put it bluntly, Jensen's never really trusted Chad and trusts him a whole lot less when there's a beautiful woman in the room. Even if that woman used to be a man. And kinda-sorta still is. In a way.

"Man, with the way Danneel was talking, I thought maybe you'd _died_ or gotten all gay-married to Pretty Boy here and run off into the Canadian wilderness. Not... you know..."

"Suddenly turned into Angelina Jolie?"

Chad scoffs. "Dude, you're hot, but you're not _that_ hot."

"Oh, I'm _totally_ that hot. You just can't tell 'cause Jensen won't let me wear anything but Chris Farley's hand-me-downs."

Chad looks back at Jensen then, an eyebrow arched.

Jensen frowns. "What?"

"Dude, I so used to only be _kidding_ about the gay thing," Chad says like that's supposed to explain anything. Jensen suddenly feels like he's missed something pretty big in the current conversation, but neither Chad nor Jared seem to be slowing down long enough for him to figure it out.

"Look, seriously," Jared says, already lifting up his shirt to show off the fact that, once again, he's not wearing a bra.

(Jensen's starting to think he should instill a mandatory bra rule except then he'd have to worry about enforcing it and that would require Jared proving his compliance every day and that would... that would be bad. Right. That would be really fucking horrible. Absolutely.)

Chad lets out a startled sound, something bordering between disgust and complete and absolute _glee_. "Oh, no _way_ those are real! Jesus, Jared. Can I touch 'em? Please tell me I can touch 'em."

And if there's one thing that Jensen hopes to never witness ever again, it's the sight of Chad fucking Michael Murray eagerly cupping Jared's breasts.

:::

Jared seriously needs to change the ring tone on his phone. And not just because it's _ha-ha-ha so very ironic_ now, but because if he has to hear it first thing in the morning one more _fucking_ day in a row, he's seriously going to hunt down Justin fucking Timberlake, hack off his dick with a machete and stick in a goddamn box himself.

Growling, Jared rolls over and tries to smother himself with his own pillow until he can't take it anymore and swings one arm out, flailing around for the offending contraption on his nightstand.

He doesn't even have to look at the caller ID to know who it is, just flips it open and brings the mouthpiece near the general vicinity of his face. "STILL GOT BOOBS!" he shouts, his voice still sounding shrill to his own ears, and snaps it shut again, tossing his phone to the far corner of his room. Harley barks in surprise when it hits the wall.

Later, Jared'll double-check to make sure it hadn't actually been his mother, but for the moment, he's content to continue moping.

:::

Jensen needs to get laid, that's all there is to it. Jensen needs to get laid by an exceptionally hot woman with beautiful tits who has never in her life been in possession of a penis and bears no resemblance whatsoever to his giant of a best friend.

He stands in the foyer of Jared's house and silently argues with himself while struggling to pull on his jacket and searching for his keys in the front pockets. Leaving Jared alone with Chad is probably a phenomenally bad idea, but Jared's made it abundantly clear that he can take care of himself. After all, the guy lost very little height and absolutely none of his... exuberance in the transformation. Anyway, Jensen's pretty sure most of the female population -- _actual_ females, that is: those _born_ with real-live, biological girl organs -- could kick Chad's ass if they felt the need. (Most of them probably should just on principle, Jensen figures.) And it's not like Chad's an _awful_ person, certainly no rapist or anything, and, as bizarre as it sometimes seems, Jared _does_ consider the guy a friend.

But, he _is_ Chad.

Jensen finally pulls the keys to his truck out of his pocket and stares down at them, turning to glance over his shoulder one last time--

"Get the hell out of here, Dillhole!" Chad shouts from the other room. "And don't come back until your breath smells like fish!"

Jensen grimaces, mouth opening for a comeback that doesn't come because, really, what the hell is he supposed to _say_ to that?

He finally lets himself out and doesn't look back.

:::

See, here's the thing: Jared isn't completely straight and hasn't been since... well, probably since forever. But he doesn't exactly remember chasing cock _or_ pussy as a toddler, so he figures it's only been since puberty. Ish. It's not a big deal, not something he'd ever really felt the need to hide or even talk about until the whole acting thing was taking off and he'd been told in no uncertain terms that he was to be a strictly heterosexual heartthrob for pre-pubescent girls around the globe. Which-- fine, again, no big deal. Nothing he couldn't handle.

And then there'd been Sandy and that'd made it even easier.

But then there'd been the show.

And then there'd been _Jensen_.

And _then_... well, things had gotten complicated.

To be fair, Jared had done a damn good job of pretending for years: still stayed devoted to Sandy, went so far as to propose, until reality caught up with him and he realized how unfair he was being to her. He kind of went about it all wrong, and, though he's never told Sandy the true reasons, he thinks she kind of knows anyway.

A few months after, there'd been that thing at Mike's party and then the even _better_ thing at a crew party a couple weeks later. They'd never talked about it, not once, which Jared had attributed to Jensen having some kind of sexual crisis, the first step of which is, of course, denial. Hadn't bother him, he could be patient. Sometimes.

But then Jared had gone and _grown a vagina_ which, Jared figures, should've made Jensen _really_ want him. Only he _doesn't_. And that-- _that_ just doesn't make any fucking sense! Now he's got these smooth, gorgeous, incredibly long legs, one hell of a rack, soft skin and luscious curves and shiny hair and one _stunning_ fucking pussy, damnit! That he's even trimmed! More than once! And Jensen _still_ won't fuck him! Not even to save Jared from being a woman for the rest of his natural life! And what kind of friend won't fuck another to save him from penile deprivation?

Which is why, after he catches Chad staring longingly at his boobs for the tenth time that night, he finally just gives in. Because, if getting dick is the only way he'll get his _own_ dick back and Jensen refuses to do it, then, well...

"You wanna have sex?"

Chad nearly chokes on his Frito, but recovers alarmingly quickly. "Shit, yeah!"

And, okay, so it's _Chad_ , but the enthusiasm still catches Jared by surprise. "Wait, seriously?"

"Dude, this is a once in a lifetime opportunity right here!"

"What about Kenzie?"

Chad arches an eyebrow and says again, "This is a _once in a lifetime opportunity_ , Jared. Trust me, she'll understand."

Suddenly, Jared's starting to have second thoughts.

"Actually, your camera does video, right?" Chad continues, already getting to his feet and heading toward the stairs. "She'll totally want proof."

Jared's pretty sure that, in this exact moment, he's never hated his life more.

:::

Jensen's pretty sure that, in this exact moment, he's never hated his life more. Because he's currently situated in the back room of the swankiest nightclub in Vancouver with three scantily-clad and _incredibly_ beautiful women, and, instead of trying to figure out how he can get all three of them into bed with him at the same time like he's _supposed_ be doing, all he can think about is Jared's mile-long legs wrapped around Chad Michael Murray's fucking _waist_.

"You know," says the tall blonde to his left -- Amber or Amanda or hell, _Peter_ for all he knows and cares -- leans into him, breath ghosting over his ear and long, slender fingers playing at the top button of his shirt, "you look _really_ familiar."

Jensen swallows and then pastes on his best cocky Dean smile. "Yeah, I get that a lot."

The blonde laughs and the brunette on his right does, too, smooths her hand over his chest while they smile at each other.

There's a second brunette just behind him that keeps touching the back of his neck, fingers grazing the short hairs at his nape and over the collar of his shirt, but all he can think about is how _wrong_ it feels.

"Do people say you look like Brad Pitt?" the brunette asks as she walks her fingers up the center of his chest, tugs at the collar of his button-up.

He shivers and manages to pull himself away from all three of them, lips still twisted in a smile that he can't help but think _must_ look fake as hell.

"Yeah, no, listen ladies, I gotta go," he tells them, makes a show of looking down at his watch. "Have a meeting in the morning- you know how it is."

All three girls throw on identical pouts.

"Maybe next time," he says, managing a sheepish, awkward laugh and then getting the hell out of there.

:::

So kissing Chad, it turns out, is pretty much the weirdest thing Jared's ever experienced. They start out slow and awkward, with Chad leading the way, their noses bumping and the timing all off and, really... it doesn't get a whole lot better.

Jared _tries_. He really does. He tries tilting his head the other way, tries closing his eyes, tries thinking of Jessica Biel and Jessica Alba and Jessica fucking _Rabbit_ all licking him from head to toe at the same time, but none of it works because Chad's lips are rough and hard and slightly chapped and the dude has _stubble_. So, against his better judgment, he tries thinking about _Jensen_ and that actually works for awhile, until Chad makes a weird sound in the back of his throat that Jared's sure Jensen's _never_ made before and he pulls back like he's been zapped with a cattle prod.

"I can't do this," he says, tugging Chad's hand out from under his shirt.

"Wha-- Jay, _come on_ ," Chad whines, shifting closer. "Thought you said this was the only way."

Every muscle in Jared's body immediately goes tense, but he doesn't pull away. Because Chad's right, that's exactly what he'd said and, as far as he knows, it _is_ the only way, but...

"Yeah, but it's-- man, you're _engaged_ and I've known you since forever--"

"Dude, you want me to call Kenzie and get her permission?" Chad asks, already sitting back to reach into the front pocket of his jeans.

Jared smooths a hand over his face and sighs. "That's so _really_ not the point."

He looks up to see Chad frowning and draws his legs up to his chest, feeling suddenly smaller than he has since about age fourteen. Gangly and weird and uncomfortable.

"Then what--" Chad starts before stopping himself mid-sentence, expression twisting into one of realization. Jared hates that face. Chad doesn't make it often, but when he does, it's fucking _lethal_. Like, when Jared'd gotten the Olsen gig and, not wanting to admit to it, had told Chad he was making a film with a set of hot twins. And then the fucker had made _that_ face and bought him the complete series of Full House on DVD. For 'research purposes.' Because he's an asshole.

Jared grimaces and looks away, pulling his legs up close enough to feel his breasts smashed against them, which is still a sensation he hasn't quite gotten used to.

"Oh, you gotta be kidding me," Chad says, and Jared can feel those fucking squinty little eyes on him.

Jared shrugs and then drops his head, trying to hide in the shelter of his own arms.

"Does he know?"

For a second, Jared seriously considers playing dumb and denying everything, but then figures there isn't much point in it anymore. He nods.

And then, again, because he's an asshole, Chad _laughs_. But when Jared lifts his head to glare at him, Chad's already pushing himself off the bed and thumbing at his cellphone.

"... Who're you calling?" Jared asks even though he's very sure he _really_ doesn't want to know.

"Kenzie," Chad answers easily, bringing the phone to his ear.

"Dude, did you not just hear what I said?"

Chad flashes a smile, the same one that once helped to convince Jared that jumping into Lake Michigan on New Year's Eve was a good idea, and says, "Trust me."

:::

Two hours later and Jared's still not sure that trusting Chad is _ever_ a good idea, but he does think his insane plan just might work.

See, the problem is that under the boobs and long legs and silky hair, he's still _Jared_ , still two-hundred-plus pounds of clumsy, over-eager _guy_ who eats too much candy and laughs too loudly and plays too many video games. There's not a single thing about him that's girly except, as Chad and Kenzie both apparently feel the need to point out, his affinity for pink. He's figured out the leg-shaving thing, but hasn't made a habit of it and he _definitely_ hasn't mastered the hair and make-up thing. Though he thinks he can blame that on the fact that it's typically someone else's job to take care of that for him. Thanks to his earlier shopping trip, he's found a few articles of hot clothing, but he still hasn't mastered the way to properly wear any of it; he hasn't figured out the _walk_ that girls have, the way they carry themselves, their poise and balance and general demeanor.

He's still a _dude_. A dude basically going through a second puberty, having to re-learn his body's quirks and subtleties all over again.

Of course, over the phone, Kenzie can only do so much, but she and Chad actually make a surprisingly good team, and, after a crash course on the inner workings of the female mind and body, a serious trial-and-error make-up session and Chad ransacking his wardrobe for something 'sexy' and ripping the shit out of it, Jared sits cross-legged in the middle of Jensen's bed. And waits.

"I feel stupid," he grumps, brushing a hand over the top of his old UT t-shirt that Chad's attacked with a pair of scissors, the remaining fabric baring one shoulder and barely hanging low enough to cover his tits.

"That's normal," Kenzie's voice chimes through speakerphone, tinny and faraway. "If you don't feel kind of stupid, you're doing it wrong."

"I thought I was supposed to feel _sexy_ ," he argues, well aware that he's whining.

Kenzie sighs. "Chad, tell him he looks sexy."

Chad's lips pull into a slow leer. "You look sexy."

Jared rolls his eyes. "Not helping."

"Everything else ready?" Kenzie asks, clearly ignoring them.

Jared slouches, eyebrows lifting inquiringly at Chad, who holds up a key.

"Absolutely," Chad says, and Jared wonders just how much Jensen is going to hate him for this.

:::

Jensen's used to being greeted at the door when he walks into Jared's house. Typically, by two overgrown furballs, one of whom has a profound slobber problem and a fetish for Jensen's left ear.

Jensen is _not_ used to being greeted at the door by Chad Michael Murray and his smug fucking (but, thankfully, less slobbery) face.

He sighs as he closes the door and tugs at the collar of his shirt, flicking open the top button. "What- I gotta take a breathalyzer test or something?" he asks, crossing his arms over his chest.

The smirk on Chad's pinched face slips away a little. "Huh?"

"Fish," Jensen reminds him. Chad continues to stare at him blankly and Jensen gives up with a sigh, shaking his head. "Forget it. Wanna tell me why you're playing guard? Or are you going for more of a Jeeves vibe?"

Jensen's barely finished the question and hasn't so much as taken his jacket off before Chad's grabbing him by the wrist and dragging him down the hall. "Got something to show you, Jenny," he says and Jensen nearly clocks him one right there. Because there's exactly _one_ person in the entire universe allowed to call him that and it sure as hell isn't _Chad_.

"What the-- _dude_!" He flails and manages to wrench his hand free, shoving Chad away at the same time with a sharp glare. "What the fuck is your _problem_?"

Unfazed, Chad flashes another easy grin. "No, seriously, you're gonna wanna see this. Trust me."

"Man, you're about the last person on the _planet_ I trust right now. No offense."

"None taken," Chad says and then lunges, hooking his arm around Jensen's neck and effectively doubling him over in a headlock. Jensen kind of hates himself for not having the reflexes to dodge it, but he's currently busy expending most of his energy in hating Chad's entire existence to dwell on it too much.

"Fuckin'--" he grunts, fighting the hold and wrapping one arm around Chad's waist, flailing and punching as he's dragged further down the hall like livestock. "Chad, you-- what the hell is _wrong_ with you?"

And the thing is, Jensen can take Chad Michael Murray. He's sure of it. Just-- maybe not after a couple drinks and a long night of being woefully unattracted to three intensely beautiful women and then getting pulled into a fucking _headlock_ immediately upon stepping foot into his own place of residence.

Not that that should be taken as any indication of his admitting defeat.

He continues to struggle, his ass knocking into the wall in the process, until he finds himself being shoved through a door and straight into--

Well, into his own bedroom.

Chad finally lets him go then and Jensen stumbles forward, coughing and tugging his shirt collar away from his throat. He's just about to spin around and start pounding on Murray when Jared's crouching directly in front of him, long bare legs bent at the knees, delicate fingers touching his face lightly.

"Shit, Jen. You okay?" he asks, all earnest and Jared-like even in that damn higher pitched voice. But his _face_ \--

Straightening up, Jensen reels as he hears the door slam behind him, followed by the suspicious clink of metal sliding against metal.

"Did that asshole just lock me in here?" he asks, the pitch of his own voice rising in panic.

Jared's gaze darts past Jensen's shoulder before he gives a sheepish smile and shrugs. Jensen tries _very_ hard not to stare at the way Jared's breasts jiggle under his incredibly short top. Clearly, the bra rule is something Jensen seriously needs to reconsider.

Though, possibly that can wait.

"You wanna tell me what the hell's going on?"

Jared shrugs again, but it's different this time: apologetic and almost ashamed. Jensen feels a tug in his gut he can't explain. "I couldn't go through with it."

"Couldn't go through with what?" Jensen asks, ignoring the pang of sympathy or protectiveness or whatever the hell it is in favor of just being really confused. He seems to do that better anyway.

"With Chad."

" _Huh_?"

Jared sighs. "I couldn't fuck Chad," he says, voice louder and slower and that pang in Jensen's gut turns toxic pretty damn quickly. Fucking _Chad_.

But instead of asking for any clarification, he tries a different avenue. "What happened to your face?"

Jared's eyes go wide. "What's wrong with my _face_?" he squeaks, one hand lifting to touch his cheek like he's expecting to find boils or a massive, volcanic zit in the middle of his forehead.

"Are you wearing make-up?"

"Shit, is it all smeared? Fuck!"

Jensen rolls his eyes. "No, it's not-- Jared, _please_ don't tell me Chad gave you a makeover."

The look of discomfort on Jared's face only intensifies and he tucks a few strands of hair behind his ears as he crosses his arms, all but folding in on himself.

"Seriously?" Jensen asks, raising an eyebrow. "God, and he calls _me_ gay."

"Kenzie helped."

" _Kenzie_?"

"They thought it'd help if I was... you know..."

Jensen _doesn't_ know, of course. That's the whole damn problem; he has no fucking _idea_ what's going on anymore. Which is apparently obvious to Jared, judging by his exasperated sigh.

"If I was girlier."

Jensen blinks, says nothing for a long moment.

Finally, he can't take it anymore and his eyes narrow slightly. "Help _what_ , exactly?"

"Jesus, Jensen. Did your brain shrink the same day I got tits or have you always been this stupid?"

"Answer the question."

Jared juts his chin forward and rests his hands on his hips. "Why don't you want to fuck me?"

" _Answer the question_."

"You're straight, aren't you? Isn't that why we don't talk about Mike's party? Why you don't ever mention that you _sucked my dick_ and clearly fucking _liked it_? Or that I sucked _yours_? _When I was a guy!_ "

"Answer the fucking _question_ , Jared!"

"Answer _mine_!"

"Ladies first!"

The sound Jared makes is unlike any Jensen's ever heard before, dark and frustrated and just a little bit terrifying. And then Jared's hands are on him, fingers curled into his coat and _shoving_ , knocking Jensen against the wall with a surprising amount of force. Guy may have lost some muscle mass in the transition to being a chick, but it sure as hell doesn't feel like it at the moment.

"I can't fuck Chad," Jared tells him, voice low and dangerous, a dark murmur just shy of Jensen's mouth and, Jensen can't help it, he actually fucking _whimpers_ , his resolve shattering.

"W- why not?" he asks anyway and hates himself for it just a little bit.

Jared scoffs and shoves again, knocking Jensen's head back against the wall.

"I want my dick back, Jensen."

Jensen swallows, fights the impulse to say ' _So do I_ ' and gives a tight nod. "I know."

That doesn't seem to be exactly what Jared wants to hear though and he gets another shove as Jared works a leg between his thighs and presses in closer.

"You're gonna fuck me," Jared tells him, sneaking a hand down under Jensen's jacket and the shirt beneath it. Jensen makes a sound he's absolutely _sure_ he's never made before, high and pathetic and totally embarrassing. Jared smirks and leans in to bite at the skin just below his jaw, nails scratching at his lower stomach. "You got it? You're gonna fuck me and you're gonna _love_ it. I promise."

Jensen's eyes roll back in his head as he lets out another whimper and imagines a white flag waving high above his head.

:::

Jared has to say, the one good thing about the clothes Chad forced him into is how easily they come off. Once Jensen gets with the program, he nearly rips them from Jared while Jared wastes no time in getting his hand down the front of Jensen's jeans, long fingers wrapping around him through the cotton of his underwear.

" _Jay--_ ," Jensen stutters and Jared grins, bites at Jensen's full bottom lip and then pulls away. Kenzie had instructed him on this, the coy act. Play hard to get, but not _too_ hard to get and he'd have Jensen eating out the palm of his hand. Or something like that; Jared's still not entirely sure he understands the reasoning behind it.

He falls back onto the bed, sliding up the length of it and shimmying out of the boy cut panties Chad had bought for him. He grins at the pure _heat_ in Jensen's eyes. Kenzie clearly knows what the hell she's talking about; Jared makes a mental note to send her a huge bouquet of chocolate later.

"C'mon," he encourages, lifting his hips and then shifting to kick the panties off, upper body supported by his elbows. "What, you think I haven't noticed the way you been lookin' at me? Think I don't know how bad you want it?"

And, man, Jensen's practically _shaking_ with it now, still clearly warring with himself; Jared can see it in the twitch of his fingers, hear it in every hitch of his breath. Jared groans in response, low and wanting just like Kenzie had (embarrassingly) made him practice on the phone and drops a hand to his breast, squeezes and rolls the flesh gently as his back arches.

"Jesus, _fuck_ ," he hears Jensen murmur and opens his eyes in time to see Jensen staggering forward, one knee dropping down onto the bed, making it dip under his weight.

Jared grins to himself, flutters his eyes open and wets his bottom lip. "Yeah, Jen," he encourages, one hand still kneading his breast, fingertips skidding over the tight, pink nipple, pinching it and gasping at the flash of heat it sends down his spine. When he blinks his eyes open again, Jensen's still staring down at him, pupils blown wide and lips parted. Jared falls back and reaches his other hand up to tug at the jacket Jensen's still wearing. " _Off_."

There's a flicker, a sharp hitched breath that Jared isn't sure whether or not to claim as his own, and then a flurry of arms and clothing and quiet, stilted grunts.

Jared tries to help; a soft, girly laugh pushes past his lips as his fingers fumble with Jensen's zipper and buttons and generally get in the way. Jensen swats at him and then wraps one large hand around his wrist and presses it back behind Jared's head, holding him down.

Jared's not expecting it, nor is he expecting the rush of heat that floods through him, breath catching in his throat as he arches and stares, wide-eyed, up at Jensen.

"This what you want?" Jensen asks, voice rough with an edge of darkness and, for a split second, Jared feels a grip of actual _fear_. And _fuck_ , but he's getting off on it, can feel the tingle of anticipation sliding down his back and settling warm between his legs.

"Y- yeah," he moans, tightens his hand into a fist and puts up an obligatory appearance of struggle.

Jensen shakes his head and Jared doesn't understand, gives another whimper as he slides his foot up along the back of Jensen's leg, arches his hips. It's an invitation he's beginning to wonder if Jensen's ever going to fucking accept.

"No. Say it," Jensen tells him, squeezing Jared's wrist tighter and leaning down, close enough to share breath. Again, Jared's stuck by how much _bigger_ Jensen is than him now. Broad and muscular in a way Jared's never really taken the time to appreciate before.

He's sure as hell making up for it now.

"What-- what d'you want me to say?" he asks, lips barely working as Jensen hovers over him, covers him from hip to chest, skin to skin, and pushes a moan from him when he feels the hard press of Jensen's dick against his stomach, already slick at the tip.

Jensen actually _growls_ then, tilts his head so that their lips nearly touch and Jared tries to lean up into it, suddenly desperate for the feel of Jensen's mouth on his own. He grapples with his free hand, finally settles on clutching at Jensen's waist, skin heated under his touch. "Say it," Jensen repeats and Jared feels the words as much as hears them, slides his hand further up Jensen's side and wraps his leg higher, drawing them closer together.

"Please," he finally manages, fingernails dragging down Jensen's sides. " _Please_ , Jen. Want it. Want it so fucking bad. Want you--"

He's silenced by the press of Jensen's mouth, the slick thickness of Jensen's tongue forcing its way past his lips and he whimpers into it, every nerve in his body set on fire. Except for the familiar, bitter taste of alcohol, it's nothing like the last one. There's more purpose this time, more pure _need_ and Jared feels like he's drowning, the kiss stealing his breath, rough and completely uncoordinated and sloppy and everything Jared's been aching to have for _months_ without even realizing.

When Jensen finally releases Jared's arm to reach down and wrap Jared's other leg around his waist, Jared completely surrenders to it, latching on, arms hooking around Jensen's neck as his hips rock upward.

"Please," he groans again, voice quieter, shattered as Jensen's stubble scrapes along his jaw. "Fuck, _please_."

:::

Jensen feels absolutely out of control and every quiet plea that falls from Jared's lips only makes it worse, makes him crave more, makes him want to take and mark and _own_.

His eyes never close once, locked on Jared's, on the one part of him that hasn't changed at all since the whole thing started, the one shred of physical familiarity as their bodies slide, slick with sweat already. And Christ, Jared feels so _small_ underneath him, something Jensen's never for a second thought possible. But, even so, Jensen can't find the control necessary to be careful with him, can't do anything more than thrust his hips forward again, rub his dick against the smooth skin of Jared's belly.

"Jensen!" Jared groans again, voice high and needy, long fingers gripping at Jensen's hair. "Jensen, gotta-- gotta get--"

It's not remotely articulate, but Jensen's way past the point of needing words. He struggles to pull himself together enough to push up, body pumped with adrenaline and pure primal _need_ to fuck Jared through the damn mattress.

Jared doesn't quite seem ready to let him go, body arching upward, long hair falling over his shoulders and getting in his eyes as he follows Jensen's mouth with his own.

"Nightstand," he breathes, teeth scraping along the curve of Jensen's jaw.

There's no need to ask what Jared's talking about, but he does feel a very brief pang of annoyance because it's _his_ nightstand, damnit. Not Jared's. So either Jared's really good at assuming Jensen's got supplies or he's taken a look. Or he's planned this and brought his own.

But then Jared's wrapping those long fingers around his cock again and stroking him from base to tip, and Jensen doesn't fucking _care_ anymore.

:::

Just because Jared's been without a dick for almost a month now doesn't mean he's forgotten how to work one. Of course his hand isn't nearly as big as it used to be, so he can't quite get the same grip and the angle is completely wrong, but... well, judging by the sounds Jensen's making, he's clearly doing _something_ right.

" _Jesus_ , I can't--" Jensen starts and then cuts himself off, half hovering over Jared as he fumbles uselessly for the nightstand.

Jared lets out a rough laugh and squeezes. "Oh yes, you fucking _can_ ," he says, voice firm and darkly amused, one leg still hooked over Jensen's thigh to hold him in place. He twists his wrist slightly, fingers brushing over the softer skin of Jensen's balls, cupping them as well as he can. And, as much as he misses his old hand, his _real_ hand, he has to admit that this is pretty cool, too. He remembers how Jensen had felt before and that'd been pretty damn awesome if a little weird, but now it's... well, Jensen feels _bigger_ like this, fuller somehow. Like there's more to touch. Which, is still weird considering it's a dick that doesn't belong to him, but also hot as hell.

Logically, Jared knows it's only because his hand is smaller, but really, the second he'd woken up with breasts had been the second he'd given up on _logic_.

He keeps his head tilted back, gaze fixed on Jensen's face as his hand works. It's more than a little clumsy, but Jensen's still rocking into it, gasping when Jared swipes a thumb over the slick tip.

"Yeah," Jared groans in encouragement, his other hand still buried in Jensen's hair, gripping and tugging.

"Gotta--" Jensen counters and then collapses forward, his nose bumping against Jared's before their lips collide. It's rougher than before, another surrender and, even if Jared's more than a little anxious to get down to business already, he can't say he's _complaining_. At _all_. Because Jensen's kissing like his entire existence depends on it, all teeth and tongue, bruising Jared's lips in the best way possible, only pulling back to breathe, harsh and ragged before diving in again. It feels like a fight or like Jensen's trying to prove something, though Jared can't figure out _what_ exactly.

Not that he's planning on asking. Mouth is kinda busy.

Instead, he growls, the sound not low like he's used to, but softer, slipping away into a moan when Jensen shifts, groans into the kiss and rests an elbow by Jared's head as he shoves his other hand down between them. Blunt, callused fingers quickly slide down Jared's stomach, down between-- down, fuck, right down _there_.

Jared gasps sharply, breaking the kiss as his hand stills on Jensen's dick, head falling back against the pillow and hips arching hopefully. It's clumsy and frantic and with all the practice he's been engaging in lately, Jared knows he can do better himself, but it's still fucking incredible.

"You-- _fuck_ , you tryin' to be a gentleman or somethin'?" Jared finally manages to grind out and feels the sharp press of Jensen's teeth at his neck in reply, the slick slide of one finger along his clit. "Ah, _shit_." His hand falls to Jensen's shoulder, short nails digging into the skin there as he feels his body draw tight. "Fuck, don't stop-- don't fuckin' stop."

Jensen's laugh vibrates down Jared's spine and he gives up completely on trying to have any finesse with jerking Jensen off, his rhythm shot to hell when Jensen slips his hand down further and pushes one finger up inside him.

"Jesus-- Jesus _fuck_!"

He knows he sounds completely shattered, shaken and desperate for it. But he's never had this before, Jensen's finger _inside_ him, thick, but not quite thick enough. Teasing. And yeah, Jared's thought about this, had thought about it even before acquiring a whole new orifice to play around with, but thinking about it and _having_ it are two very different things.

"God, Jay," Jensen groans, words nearly lost against Jared's throat. "So fuckin' _tight_."

Jared's used that line before. More than once. Somehow, it sounds completely different from this side of the deal and he whimpers embarrassingly, still clinging to Jensen with every part of him. Jensen thrusts his finger in deeper, crooks it slightly and it-- well, it actually kind of hurts a little, but it's nothing Jared can't handle. And, hell, real chicks do it all the time, right? He can take it.

God, can he take it.

:::

Jesus _Christ_ , but Jared's wet. Wet and warm and slick and _tight_. So fucking tight. Tight enough that Jensen's seriously wondering just how long he can possibly last once-- fuck, once he's _inside_. He still can barely process that, the fact that he's about to fuck his best friend, his best _male_ friend who is currently inhabiting the body of an insanely hot _female_.

The muscles in his left arm are starting to ache from holding his weight, but he's nowhere near done with Jared and he twists his wrist in an attempt to get deeper, drawing a sharp hiss from Jared that immediately makes him stop short.

"Okay?" he asks, lifting his head and noticing the sheen of sweat on Jared's face, strands of hair sticking to his skin. Jared's lips twitch into a half-grin and he whimpers again, arches and presses into Jensen's touch with a slow rock of his hips.

"Good," Jared tells him and then moans softly again, mouth falling slack as he finally lets go of Jensen's dick and circles Jensen's wrist instead, guiding him. "Really-- really fuckin' good."

Jensen can feel Jared's fingers slipping lower to touch where Jensen's entering him and _fuck_ if that doesn't make him nearly pass out with the blood rush. He falters and ducks his head, lips dragging across the curve of Jared's jaw.

"God _damn_ ," he groans, struggling to find the rhythm again as Jared tightens his legs around Jensen's waist, tightens _everything_.

Jared whines and lets go of Jensen's wrist, slick fingers sliding up along Jensen's forearm. "I swear to God, if you don't-- don't fuck me soon, I'll bite your goddamn prick off," he growls and there's something just dark enough in Jared's tone to make Jensen take him completely seriously.

Reluctantly, he pulls his finger free and then stares at it for a moment, wet and gleaming faintly. He barely resists the urge to taste it.

" _Jensen_."

Swallowing, he drops his hand and then heaves forward, Jared finally relaxing his hold enough for him to do so. He manages to get the drawer of his nightstand open this time, pulling out one of the foil squares just waiting for him there. Not his own stash, he notices, but the pack Eric had so kindly purchased for him. Them. Whatever.

Somehow, even the thought of Eric encouraging his sex life isn't enough to make his cock wilt.

:::

Jared reaches up as Jensen's sliding back, snatches the condoms and rips it open with utter determination.

"Dude," Jensen grunts, but Jared ignores him, fingers making quick work of the packaging and then reaching down to grab hold of Jensen's dick again, angling and sliding the condom down over him. Jensen's practically _shaking_ , head ducked to watch, their foreheads touching. _This_ at least, Jared knows how to do. The angle's still all weird, but the procedure's the same and Jared's a fucking _expert_ , damnit.

"C'mon," he murmurs, shifting and wrapping his legs around Jensen's waist again. "Fuck me."

:::

While Jared's never been on this end of the sexual experience before and it's possible he's maybe expected too much, he's pretty sure it's supposed to go better than _that_.

He shifts uncomfortably under Jensen's weight. "Dude."

Jensen replies only with a grunt, unmoving, his face smashed into Jared's neck.

"Dude-- _seriously_ ," Jared growls, gives Jensen's bicep a hard punch. " _Tits_." The pained sound Jensen lets out is somewhat satisfying.

It also seems to get the point across as Jensen pushes up with a scowl, favoring his other arm.

"You're still a girl," he says, lips tugged in a frown. Like it's somehow _Jared's_ fault.

Jared's eyes narrow and he thumps his hands against Jensen's chest, roughly pushing him back so Jared can sit up. "So glad you noticed. Get off me."

"But, that's--" Jensen starts and then cuts himself off, the bed creaking quietly under his shifting weight. Jared doesn't have to look to know that he's slipping the condom off, can tell just by the familiar sounds.

There's a quiet sigh after a few seconds and then Jensen continues, "It didn't work." He sounds oddly hurt or maybe disappointed and there's a small part of Jared that almost wants to tell him that it's no big deal, totally fine, not Jensen's fault. Except- well, there's a far larger part of Jared that's still seriously missing his dick and, at the moment, is pretty sure it _is_ Jensen's fault.

"Well, maybe if you didn't have the stamina of a _fourteen year old_ ," he snaps and then immediately regrets it. Somehow, with just one sentence, he's managed to sound like every female character from _Sex and the City_. Or, how he assumes they sound, considering he's never actually watched the show.

He shoves his way off the bed, resolutely ignoring any look Jensen might be throwing in his direction as he bends down to gather up his somewhat mutilated clothing.

"Hey!" Jensen grumps from the bed. "I did my part, man."

Jared can't help his derisive snort, quickly glaring back over his shoulder. "Your _part?_ Wow. Way to make it sound like you really enjoyed yourself there, cowboy."

"Well, it's not my fault it didn't work!"

"Dude, I sure as hell hope you're not like this with every girl you bone," Jared mutters darkly as he gets to his feet, shorts and ripped t-shirt cradled close as he crosses his arms over his chest.

"I'm not-- what--" Jensen starts and then stops, his mouth hanging open like a retarded blowfish. Jared waits, lips pursed and eyes narrowed. Jensen's kind of openly staring at him because, well because Jared's still naked.

"It's called reciprocation," he sneers, pointedly ignoring the slow heat that winds down his spine from the intensity of Jensen's gaze. Not sure whether to feel turned on, further annoyed or just really fucking awkward, he pops a hip and glares. "Maybe you should look it up."

Jensen's eyes suddenly go wide, which looks pretty ridiculous since he's still completely naked and stretched out on his bed like that one truly horrible Burt Reynold's poster from the 70s. Except Jensen's a hell of a lot better looking than Burt Reynolds. A lot less hairy, too. And, okay, Jared _really_ needs to stop thinking about a naked Burt Reynolds before--

He's surprised by how fast Jensen moves; a blink and Jared's pressed back against the wall, his clothes dropping to the floor in a pathetic pile at his feet.

"Look, I'm sorry," Jensen says, his voice all low and weirdly gentle, eyes locked on Jared's. Earnest. "I don't normally-- man, I swear. I'm not like that."

It's stupid and cliche as hell, but Jared actually feels _weak-kneed_ , his body sagging against the wall behind him as he fights a whimper and tips his head up like he's trying to meet some kind of unnamed challenge.

"I'm sorry," Jensen repeats, quieter, pressing in close enough that Jared's nipples graze his chest.

"Yeah?" Jared manages to get out, one hand reaching to hook around Jensen's side, tugging him in closer. "Prove it."

:::

Which is how Jensen finds himself on his knees.

The carpet's rough and digs harshly into his skin, but he's not about to complain. Jared has one long leg hooked up over his shoulder, both hands in Jensen's hair and the _sounds_ he's making...

Pulling back enough to catch his breath, Jensen glances up, gaze trailing up the slope of Jared's flat stomach to the swell of his breasts, Jared's chest rising and falling with each ragged whimper, sweat glistening on his skin. "Yeah," he groans and then leans in again, tongue sliding between the wet, slick folds, one hand gripping the soft skin of Jared's inner thigh, trying to spread him wider.

Jared shakes above him and Jensen smooths his other hand upward, curls it carefully around Jared's hip, holding him steady against the wall as he tastes deeper. And, okay, Jensen's done this before in a couple respects: he's gone down on numerous women, knows perfectly well how to give good head and he's... well, he's done this with _Jared_ before. Kind of. In a way.

But the two situations together create something completely different. Like adding one and one and getting a triangle.

He only has the vaguest memory of what Jared had tasted like the last time, but he's pretty sure it's different now. Lighter. Still faintly bitter, but not as heavy. Not better or worse, just... different. From what he can remember anyway.

Jared slowly rocks his hips and Jensen glances up again, catches Jared looking down at him, bottom lip caught between his teeth. Jensen tries to hold the gaze, but can't, his eyes slipping shut as he lets out another hungry groan, his mouth still working, lapping greedily as he gently encourages Jared to move however he wants, to take whatever he wants. And this part-- this is _nothing_ like the last time and Jensen's slightly shaken by the bizarre feeling of emptiness. Which isn't to say that he's not enjoying himself because he sure as hell _is_ , but it's not-- he can't help but feel like there's something _missing_.

Still, that's difficult to focus on when Jensen's thumb skims along the slick, sensitive skin of Jared's cunt, his tongue circles and flicks against the hard nub of Jared's clit and Jared starts to fucking _lose it_ , right there, right against Jensen's _mouth_ , shouting Jensen's name like some of kind of filthy mantra.

And, it's pretty much the best sound Jensen's ever heard. Even if the pitch isn't quite right.

:::

Once the tremors subside, Jared slowly starts to become aware of the rest of his body: his legs feel like rubber, skin still slightly tingling all over as the sweat cools. While Jared's brought himself off many times in this body, it's never felt quite like _that_ and he's sure... well, he's _pretty_ sure that if this whole switch is supposed to happen in a flash, the explosion he's just experienced would probably do the trick.

He grins a little to himself, shifts enough to let his leg drop off Jensen's shoulder and blinks his eyes open, staring blissfully up at the ceiling for a few seconds.

"Jay?" Jensen says, voice coming from just below Jared's hips. Jared gives a quiet chuckle in reply, the sound still light instead of low. Feminine. Somehow, he's neither surprised or all that disappointed.

Jensen's hand is warm on his hip and it slides inward, smoothing over his stomach as Jared lets out a slow sigh, tips his head to look down. Jensen's lips, red and wet, are curved upward in a grin.

"Kay. So what do we try next?"

:::

Sucking dick isn't new, and, even if Jared's only done it with Jensen the once, and, at the time, he'd had a bigger mouth, bigger hands and liquid courage on his side, he's still pretty sure he knows what he's doing. Judging by the ragged grunts of encouragement and the slow, steady rock of Jensen's hips, he's willing to bet money that Jensen agrees.

Jared pulls back slowly, lips clinging until the very last second, tongue flicking out to trace the slit before he sucks in his bottom lip, slides his hand up Jensen's spit-slick cock.

"Good?" he asks, quirking a grin as he stares up the length of Jensen's body, stretched out for him on the bed, arms spread in complete surrender.

"Fuck," is Jensen's only reply, hips rolling upward again, thrusting into the tight fist of Jared's hand before Jared leans over, shoulder squared, mouth hovering just over the tip.

"Don't think this is gonna do it," he says as he drags Jensen's dick across his lips, slicking them with spit and pre-come.

Not that Jared has the first clue what _will_ do it. His logic -- if any can really be applied to this kind of situation -- tells him that his awesome new vagina has to be somehow involved in the proceedings and... well, it's not. Unless still being incredibly wet counts somehow.

Jensen gives another grunt, snaps his hips forward. "Don't care," he rasps and Jared almost laughs as Jensen's dick smears across his cheek.

One hand still wrapped around Jensen's cock, Jared ducks down, lets the weight of Jensen's balls settle on his tongue as he strokes him. It's a good trick even if there's no actual finesse involved and Jensen whines beneath him, struggles to spread his legs wider.

Jared pulls back with a wet pop, grinning. "Knew it," he says, flicking his thumb along the crown of Jensen's dick as his mouth moves lower, hovering just above Jensen's hole. "Such a bottom."

:::

So it turns out Jared's right: it doesn't work. When Jensen points out that he hadn't actually _come_ and that, possibly, that had something to do with it, the look Jared gives him makes him shut up pretty quickly.

Though it might also have something to do with the way Jared's hovering over him, slowly and inexpertly sliding a condom over Jensen's rock-hard dick.

"C'mon," he tries to encourage, head raised to watch as Jared's slender fingers slip the latex over him and give a teasing squeeze. Jensen's toes curl and his hips buck upward helplessly. " _Fuck_ \--"

He can hear Jared laugh again, though it sounds a little off this time, a little rougher. Jared shifts, breasts swaying from the movement and Jensen lifts a hand to cup one, the swell heavy in his palm and Jared shudders, dark hair nearly hiding his face.

"Jensen," he murmurs, pressing a hand to Jensen's chest. It sounds almost like a warning, but if it is, Jensen's sure as hell not heeding it, his other hand resting over Jared's hip, drawing him closer. Another shift and Jared's sliding down onto him in one smooth, slick glide. Instinctively, Jensen tenses, holds his breath until he feels Jared resting on him completely and fuck-- _fuck_.

"This-- this could work," he says as Jared rolls his hips and somehow takes Jensen _deeper_.

"Mmm," Jared replies, stretching back. His nails drag down Jensen's chest and Jensen completely forgets how to breathe.

:::

It doesn't work.

And it doesn't work with Jared bent over, either; on his knees, Jensen's hands on his ass, pounding into him as Jared moans deliciously. It doesn't work with Jared draped diagonally across the bed, Jensen's head ducked between Jared's thighs as Jared mouths his cock. It doesn't work with Jensen on his knees, Jared's back against his chest, long legs straddling him in such a way that can't possibly be comfortable, though Jared never complains. It doesn't work with Jared on his back, pulled to the edge of the bed and Jensen standing between his spread legs, doesn't work even when Jensen finds the perfect rhythm, thrusting slow and deep as he circles Jared's clit with the pad of his thumb.

Three hours, four condoms and countless orgasms between them later, and Jared's apparently no closer to getting his dick back. Sprawled out on Jensen's bed and breathing like they've just run a marathon, they both startle slightly when there's three hard thumps against the door.

" _Status_?"

Somehow during the course of their sexual marathon, Jensen had managed to nearly forget about Chad. He groans.

"Negative!" Jared calls back wearily.

" _Goddamnit!_ " Chad yells, giving the door another hard thunk. "He not man enough, Jay- that the problem? Need me to go wrangle up a few steel workers or some shit--"

"Fuck off, Murray!" Jensen shouts, kind of wishing he had something to throw at the door. And the energy with which to throw it.

"Hey, I'm just trying to help out here, people. You need food? Pizza and beer? Water? I know where Jay stashes his porn- maybe you guys just need a little something to get you in the mood..."

"Chad!"

It's Jared who yells this time as he sits up and bends over the side of the bed. He manages to find Jensen's shoe on the floor and hurls it at the door. "Go _away!_ "

Jensen turns his head to watch, stares at the way Jared's dark, wavy hair drapes over his shoulder, the way his spine curves and his hips fan outward. Jensen can't deny that Jared's hot as hell like this, but he also can't deny how _wrong_ it still feels. Because no matter how he looks at it, this isn't _his_ Jared.

"Jesus, _fine!_ " Chad grumbles from beyond the door. "Ungrateful fucktards."

Jared drops back down onto the bed with a heavy sigh, breasts bouncing gently at the impact and Jensen watches him. Silent.

He has no idea how long it takes him fall asleep again.

:::

Jared doesn't know how long they've been sleeping, but Jensen's alarm clock tells him it's 5:35 in the morning. The little dots between the hour and minutes blink the seconds away as Jensen snores quietly against the back of Jared's neck, one arm still draped over his side.

He shifts, legs stretching and muscles aching pleasantly as he turns to look over his shoulder. Jensen's still knocked out cold and doesn't so much as stir, even when Jared tilts his hips back to feel the warmth of Jensen's' spent dick against the curve of his ass. It occurs to him that being wrapped up in Jensen's arms should feel weirder than it actually does if only because he's never been wrapped up in _anyone_ before. He's the big spoon. Always. But it feels comfortable, safe even, and instead of freaking out, Jared decides to let himself enjoy it, inhaling deeply as he presses further into the warmth, tugging Jensen's arm tighter around him.

He dozes for awhile, the steady rhythm of Jensen's breathing lulling him to sleep.

When he wakes later, it's with Jensen's hand between his thighs, large gentle fingers spreading him and slipping inside. Jared's still slick from earlier, still ready. A breath gets stuck in his chest, a snap of panic before he feels the brush of Jensen's lips against his ear and remembers.

"Thought-- _fuck_ ," he says with a whimper, his left leg bending and lifting back over Jensen's calf to give him better access. "Thought I wore you out."

Jensen answers with a soft growl and rocks forward, cock once again hard against Jared's back, and says, "Underestimate me, man. 'm hurt."

Jared laughs, the sound catching on a gasp as Jensen's fingers push deeper inside him in a quick, rough thrust. Jared's arm comes up and back, fingers skidding over Jensen's shoulder, Jensen's skin bed-warm as Jared clings to him.

"Think any of this is really gonna work, Jay?" Jensen asks as he slips his fingers out, smearing a damp trail across Jared's hip as he maneuvers him.

Even after the past few hours in bed and the past the past few _weeks_ of being smaller and slimmer and lighter, Jared's not used to being manhandled. It's both unnerving and thrilling. And then the tip of Jensen's dick is nudging against him, unquestionably bare, no barrier of latex this time. Jared sucks in a breath, goes tense all over.

"Dunno," he confesses, a tight whisper as Jensen rocks his hips, not breaching him, but teasing.

His fingers curl in Jensen's hair as Jensen's lips graze the side of his neck. "I'll pull out," Jensen murmurs.

Jared tries to swallow, but his throat's gone completely dry. Jensen's cock rubs against him, slow but with definite intent and _fuck_ , Jared's never felt like this, such a bone-deep _need_ to be filled.

"Please, Jay, wanna-- wanna feel you. _Really_ feel you."

It's stupid, Jared knows that. Completely and totally stupid. And yeah, he's done it before a few times, but he's never been on _this_ side of the situation. Before now, Jared hasn't really let himself consider the possibility of being permanently stuck as a girl, hasn't really considered being a girl _at all_ so much as suddenly possessing female genitalia. Even after all the fucking, after being on his back and his knees, after having Jensen thrusting into him, it hadn't felt like _this_.

And Jensen's not even _inside_ him yet.

It doesn't make sense, but Jared feels almost split open, the weight of Jensen's body around him the only thing holding him together, and he finally gives into it. He nods as he rocks his hips back, feels the velvet-smooth slide of Jensen's dick again and pulls in a shuddering breath. "Yeah-- yeah, do it."

Jensen groans behind him, low and broken and Jared can't help a shiver when he feels Jensen reach down between them, line up and slide in. So easy, _so easy_. There's no pain this time, just the sudden, still bizarre sensation of being filled. Jensen grabs hold of Jared's thigh, holding him open as he pushes in one smooth motion and then goes still.

"Fuck," Jared says, shuddering as his body instinctively tenses.

Behind him, Jensen's breath hitches. "God-- god _damn_ , Jay."

It sounds kind of broken and kind of stupid and it's all just a little too much. Jared laughs, the sound strained as a shiver trips up his spine. Against his neck, he can feel Jensen's lips twitch into a grin before he says, "This funny to you?"

Jensen's hand slides higher up his thigh, curves inward to press against Jared's cunt and any response Jared might've had is cut off with a sharp whimper. His hips rock forward and then back, Jensen still nestled deep inside him. It's not Jared's most ideal position, Jensen's body completely boxing him in, hardly letting him move at all, body twisted slightly and held down.

But it's-- fuck, it's incredible. Jensen bucks forward, holds Jared tighter to him, fingers sliding down to the point where they're connected, skimming over-sensitive skin.

" _Jensen_."

When Jensen starts moving again, it's almost achingly slow. His hips pull back far enough that Jared almost thinks he'll slip out and Jared's muscles tighten again, straining to keep Jensen inside him before Jensen shoves forward again, fills him, fingertips sliding back up to Jared's clit. And it's-- the rhythm isn't perfect, every flick of Jensen's fingers winding him tighter, but never enough to push him over. He feels smothered, surrounded by Jensen's weight and scent and he cranes his head back as much as he can, enough to feel the scratch of Jensen's stubble against his cheek, Jensen's heated, ragged breath warming his skin.

"I'm gonna--" Jensen mutters and Jared's muscles go tight again, encouraging as he arches and rolls his hips, making Jensen shudder all over. " _Fuck_. Jay--"

Jared can't hold back the helpless whimper that slips past his lips when Jensen pulls out. He turns his head in an attempt to stifle it against the pillow, smelling sweat in the fabric and Jensen's cologne and deep musk just underneath. His thighs fall shut and his whole body shivers when he hears the wet slip-slide of skin on skin behind him and, seconds later, feels the hot splash of Jensen's come.

Still on edge, he pushes a hand between his legs, fingers taking over where Jensen's had left off, rubbing and circling the way he's practiced. Jensen's lips brush the curve of his shoulder and slide up to his neck, settle just below his jaw as he feels Jensen's hand rest over his own, fingers slick and sticky. It hits him that he's feeling Jensen's come along with his own, that they're all mixed up together now, wrapped up in each other, sweat and come and breath, and whether or not he's a girl or a guy doesn't make any fucking difference anymore. This is them, this is what he's been wanting since the day he'd first shaken Jensen's hand, since the first time Jared had flubbed his lines and Jensen had been there to laugh at him. Since the first time Jensen had bought him a drink at Reilly's and the first time they'd watched a football game in Jensen's trailer and the first time they joined forces to pull a prank on Jorge and the entire lighting crew. This is exactly what he's wanted since Mike's stupid fucking party, since the moment he'd first tasted Jensen's mouth, since the second he'd dropped to his knees and given a really bad, drunken, sloppy blowjob. This is _it_.

Jensen's tongue slides up to just below Jared's ear, a wet, slick pressure and the world goes white behind Jared's eyelids.

His body's still shivering with aftershocks when he comes to, eyes blinking open as Jensen's hand slides up his stomach, settling just below his belly button, pulling him closer.

"Can't believe you fuckin' came on me," he murmurs once he can find his voice again. There's no heat in the words, though, only a lazy kind of amusement and Jensen laughs, the sound sleepy and muffled against Jared's shoulder.

"You loved it."

"Fuckin' gross," he says and Jensen tugs him closer.

It doesn't take Jared very long at all to fall asleep again, his body content and exhausted and Jensen's legs curled just under his own.

:::

It's not normal for Jensen to wake up to sunlight. This is mostly due to the fact that, the last few weeks aside, he's typically up early enough to make inhumane call times and also because he lives in a city that gets approximately five days of sunlight a year.

This morning is, apparently, one of those five days.

The light is harsh, beating down through Jensen's single bedroom window and he grunts irritably, tugs at the sheets that are only covering about half of his body and tries to roll over-- only to find himself face to shoulder with one incredibly muscular upper arm.

" _Jesus_ \--"

Heart hammering, he scrambles back, legs still tangled in the sheets, and lands hard on the carpet just as the events of the night before come rushing back. It seems to be more than enough to get the guy's attention and Jensen watches, wide-eyed, as Jared grumbles awake, miles of tanned, smooth, _male_ skin shifting and bunching over hard muscle.

Jensen's pretty sure it's the best thing he's ever seen in his entire life. And somehow it scares the shit out of him at the same time.

"Jen?"

Jared's voice is a bleary, sleepy rumble, weirdly unfamiliar in so many ways, but exactly what Jensen's been missing in so many others. His breath catches and he watches as the sound reaches Jared's ears, his friend's eyes going wide a second before he claps a huge hand to his chest, lips twitching into a bright smile.

"Holy shit, it _worked_!"

Jared's smile has always been infectious and it's no different now; Jensen returns a feeble smile of his own from the floor, despite becoming increasingly aware of just how naked they both are.

"Dude, do you think-- what do you think did it? Was it just, like... did we hit a magic number or something? What was it-- eight, ten times? I totally lost count. Maybe the sleep?" Jared rambles, making the mattress bounce as he scrambles to the side of the bed, all long legs and muscle and-- _Jesus_ , there's nothing about him even _remotely_ feminine anymore. And Jensen can't stop staring, can't stop the enormous sense of relief and dread and amazement that rushes through him as Jared continues to reacquaint himself with his old body, hands smoothing over narrowed hips and thick thighs and the space in between.

Jared's dick had been pretty memorable the last time Jensen had seen it, but now it's... well, it's a whole lot different this time. The fact that there's enough light to actually _see_ it helps. And he's not drunk out of his mind.

"Oh, man, I've missed you," Jared says, his voice pitched softer. "I swear I'll never do anything to lose you again, okay?"

Jensen glances up, one eyebrow arched and has to immediately fight a laugh when he realizes Jared's trying to soothe and reassure his penis.

"Dude," he says and Jared glances up, grinning and clearly unashamed. "Seriously?"

"I was a chick," Jared says, speaking slowly, like maybe somehow Jensen had failed to notice. "For _weeks_. You have no idea how much-- oh shit, I need to call Eric!"

Jared practically leaps off the bed and Jensen ducks just in time to avoid getting a knee in the middle of his forehead.

:::

"He wants proof!" Jared shouts as he snaps his phone shut and tries not to laugh.

Resting his shoulder against the wall outside Jensen's bathroom, he listens to the flush of the toilet and then the faucet being turned on and off. Jensen steps out moments later wearing glasses and Jared realizes for the first time that Jensen's probably slept in his contacts all night. He spares a moment to feel guilty about that and then remembers he's been without a penis for a _month_ ; he should get to remain guilt-free for at least another twenty-four hours.

"What, your voice wasn't proof enough?" Jensen says and there's a weird look in his eyes that Jared can't quite interpret.

He shrugs, eying Jensen speculatively. "Guess he figured it could be you doing a really good impression."

It's possible Jensen's freaking out. Likely, even. Which, okay, Jared can understand that given the past few weeks, but there's no way Jensen can tell him he doesn't want this. The inevitable ' _You were a girl!_ ' defense will be easy enough to counter since Jared definitely hadn't been a girl at Mike's party when, arguably, this whole thing had started. Not to mention how vehemently Jensen had fought Jared's advances when he _had_ been a girl. Which Jared still thinks is fucking weird and makes him wonder if Jensen really is a total closet case. The ' _You're my best friend and I don't want to fuck anything up_ ' and the ' _If this gets out, it will seriously ruin our careers_ ' are both more understandable and believable, but still bullshit. This _won't_ fuck up their friendship, Jared's sure of that. He won't let it. And it won't get out if they don't want it to. They can be careful and it's not like half the people in the crew don't think they're fucking already.

Jensen's wearing sweatpants now; he'd pulled them on the second Jared had started looking for his phone, and Jared's kind of disappointed by that.

Of course _Jared's_ still butt naked and planning to stay that way for as long as possible, if only so every time he looks down he can be reassured that everything is just exactly where it's supposed to be.

Glancing downward pointedly, Jensen gestures at Jared's phone. "Thing's got a camera on it, right?"

Jared blinks and trips over another laugh. "I am not sending Eric a picture of my penis!"

Jensen's lips twitch upward at one corner and he shrugs. "Well, it'd work."

"It'd also probably end up on the Internet."

"Might not be such a bad thing."

There's a grin on Jensen's face then and Jared smirks, takes a step forward as he lowers the pitch of his voice. "That so?"

He watches the bob of Jensen's throat when Jensen swallows and savors being tall again, having that slight advantage that he silently promises himself to never take for granted ever again.

"Well, I mean--" Jensen starts, clearly trying to hold his ground, to keep still as Jared crowds into his personal space. "Probably couldn't hurt your career." In this body, his _right_ body, Jared practically looms over Jensen. After being in a girl's body for so long, it feels a little foreign and maybe he should probably feel bad for using it like this, like a mode of intimidation.

He doesn't, though.

Jensen's breath hitches when Jared touches his bare side. Jared watches him try to play it off with a cocky, Dean-like twist of a grin. "Not like you've got much of one to start with."

"Oh, fuck you," Jared says with a low laugh, but he can't mask his surprise when Jensen tilts his head up and, without missing a beat, whispers, "Yeah, maybe."

If it's meant as a joke, Jared frankly doesn't care, hardly even _considers_ it. He only blinks and then immediately lifts both hands to cradle Jensen's face and takes his mouth, tongue pushing past the barrier of Jensen's lips as they crash against the wall. It's nothing like before and not just because Jared doesn't have breasts this time and doesn't have to reach up to get what he wants. It's different because Jensen's hands instantly drop to his waist and pull him closer, different because Jensen's kissing like his life depends on it, different because he knows beyond a shadow of a doubt that Jensen _wants_ this.

"Gonna," Jared promises the second his mouth is free, a dark murmur against the curve of Jensen's jaw as Jensen's hands grab hold of his ass. "God, _yeah_ , I'm gonna."

Bracing one arm against the wall and shoving the other down the front of Jensen's pants, Jared's mouth latches onto his neck, feels the jump in his pulse as Jensen surges against him.

"Fuck, _Jay_!" Jensen hisses as Jared's fingers wrap around him. He's only half-hard, but Jared gives a light squeeze and it jumps in response, swelling gradually in his palm. "Need-- Jesus, you're gonna fuckin' _kill me_ , Jared."

"Don't think you got just one more in you?" Jared growls, teasing as his lips brush Jensen's ear. "Don't gotta do much this time. Just bend over... let me fuck you."

Jensen shudders against him and whimpers. "God, I hate you."

"No, you don't," Jared says with complete conviction, his free hand gripping Jensen's hair to pull his his head back. His glasses are fogged up and sliding down the slope of his nose and Jared nips at the curve of his jaw, stubble tickling his lips. "C'mon, Jen. Know you got--"

" _JARED!_ "

They both jump at the same time, the screech of the unfamiliar voice grinding everything to a halt. Jared pulls back to see his own confusion mirrored in Jensen's green eyes, heart pounding in his throat.

"What...?"

Jensen shakes his head in answer and they both jump again when there's another shout.

"What the hell did you _do_ , you fuckin' GAY-ASS MOTHER _FUCKERS_ \--" There's another hard knock at the door that sounds suspiciously like a kick, followed by the fumbled click of the lock Jared had nearly forgotten about it. He has enough presence of mind to yank the comforter off the bed and cover himself just before a girl he's never seen before comes crashing through the door.

A girl with short blonde hair, a compact, athletic build and all-too-familiar squinty eyes.

"... Holy shit," Jared breathes, eyes wide as the girls stands, glaring murderously, hands balled into small fists.

Beside him, Jensen drops onto the bed and it takes Jared a moment to realize he's laughing, takes only a second more for him to join in.

 **end.**


End file.
